This is one of my favorite times to write.
I just spent the last two hours sitting in the lobby of a beautiful Vermont inn, working on my book, while the dozen or so guests (my wife included) quietly slumbered away.

Since 5:00, I’ve written about two thousand words of fiction, completed a blog post to my daughter, written a short post for this blog, caught up on the news (government shutdown averted) and watched the sun come up over the low, rounded mountain to the east.

It’s been a joyous morning so far.

I’ve recently begun work on a semi-autobiographical book related to productivity, which sprung from a blog post that was getting entirely too long to post. One of the tenets of the productive life, I believe, is finding great joy in being productive.

This morning has been a perfect example of this.

And it explains why this is one of my favorite times to write:

Early in the morning, when the world is still dark, in a building filled with sleeping guests.

The building full of sleeping guests is the important part.

It sounds a little mean, but I take an immense amount of admittedly perverse pleasure knowing that I just spent two hours getting things done while so many others merely slept.

A little bit of personal schadenfreude to start my day.

I suspect early morning runners experience this same feeling, though most are not as foolish enough as me to admit to it.